Izusa Witch Doctor Extraordinaire
by Anna Letha
Summary: Izusa's your typical Witch Doctor, if you have a problem, she can probably solve it and likely charge you more money than the cure was worth. So what happens when a shaman, moonlighting as a scam artist scams a pair of orcs? Trouble, that's what.
1. Chapter 1

((Author's Note: This story was inspired by World of Warcraft. Izusa is my character from the Thorium Brotherhood server. This story, although using characters I've created personalities for, is copyright Blizzard Entertainment 2005, please don't sue, etc.

This story is rated M for some language, some adult themes and violence.))

Izusa Witch Doctor Extraordinaire

A World of Warcraft fanfic

By Heidi Cautrell

~Izusa the Swindler~

The clink of shiny little disks of metal was like a love song to Izsua's ears. Grinning like a madwoman, she carefully counted out her stash of coins as she sat cross-legged on the bedroll she used to hide her horde in. Braids filled with beads and feathers hung around her face, hiding the crazy grin and her otherwise smooth, almost pretty features.

"Izusa! Where are you, troll! You owe me for that dud spell stick you sold me that was suppose to attract women!" The voice was high pitched and scratchy, but Izusa knew it belong to a male, goblin bruiser. What was his name again? Izzy? Wizzy? Finkle? They all sounded the same to her; looked the same too.

Grunting her annoyance, Izusa hid her half-counted stash, then hurried to the locked door of her wooden shack. Tossing on a cape that was covered in feathers and bones, she snagged a mask made of wood and painted almost childishly with Trollish swear words and covered with feathers and strings of beads. Undoing the seven bolts she'd put on the door, she swept outside in a clatter of bones and beads. Snatching up a nearby stick topped with what looked like a human skull and decorated with more Trollish words and strings of feathers and beads, Izusa stared down at the goblin.

Taken aback by her appearance, the diminutive bruiser took a moment to compose himself. Shaking off his surprise, he glared up at her and waved something toward her.

"An' what ya be troublin' Witch Doctah Izusa foah today, mon?"

"Do you see this?" piped the goblin who was possibly named Wizzy.

"I be havin' eyes, mon. I be seein' it jes fine, ya," said Izusa, her voice reproachful.

"Then you damn well take it back and make me a new one! This doesn't work! That female elf still won't give me the time of day! She looks at just about everyone else, but not me. No, never Winkle. And why not? At least I have a PERSONALITY!" The goblin was practically screeching and foaming at the mouth by the time he finished.

The pregnant pause that followed his rant--which was filled with huffing from Winkle, the foaming weirdo, and the clack of beads and bones as Izusa tried not to burst out laughing--was interrupted by shouting.

"IZUSA! You better hope you aren't there, troll, cause I'm comin' to take back the gold ya swindled outta me!" The voice was rough and deep. Possibly it was an orc or a tauren. Possibly something worse, like a troll. Or possibly something ugly, like an elf. Whatever it was, it was at the bottom of the path that wound up to her hut by the sea and would be there soon if she didn't hurry.

Clearing her throat, she spread her arms, planted her staff in the ground near her foot, and snatched the object from the goblin's hand. It was a small piece of wood with a tiny stone on the end. The stone was shaped like a carrot, sort of--it was really just an oblong shaped stone she'd found on the beach. The same beach she'd also found the stick, though she'd claimed the stick was really from Teldrassil when she'd first given it to the goblin.

Pulling a vial of deep red liquid from somewhere under her cloak, she poured it over the stick, then handed it back to the goblin. "Dat'll add to da potency. Sounds like ya elfey be usin' some magic of her own, ya. Rub dat in good, it bein' troll blood, most virile blood evah known, mon. An' dat will be two gold, cause dat blood don't come cheap, ya know."

Staring in superstitious awe and disgust at the bloody stick in his hand, the goblin dazedly pulled out two gold pieces and held them out. Izusa snatched them up, tucked them into her bodice, then ushered the goblin to the edge of the path that led down from her hut. Whirling away from the steam rolled goblin, the shaman raced back into her hut, snagging the still upright staff along the way.

Into a corner she tossed the mask, cape and staff. Then she extracted her fortune from her sleeping roll and tucked it into a pouch at her waist. Hiking up her skirts, she climbed up on a nearby stool that was really the only piece of furniture in the place. A piece of the wall which was resembled a window except it had wood instead of glass in it was shoved open. Squirming her way out the opening, Izusa landed in an inelegant heap outside her hut.

The back of the hut faced the jungle in Stranglethorn Vale. She knew the jungle well and didn't anticipate any problems in entering the trees with nothing but her wits and a sack of gold. A troll could survive most things, including loss of limbs. She expected to lose no more than a toe or finger on this little outing, which was more than most could say.

"IZUSA! WHERE ARE YOU?!" the voice roared. Sucking in a breath, the witch doctor and con woman struggled to her feet and made a dash for the forest, colorful skirts and braids flying.

"IZUSA! I'M GONNA TO GET YOU FOR TAKING MY MONEY!"

"NOT TODAY, MON!" She cackled as she slipped into the undergrowth.

Around the side of the hut came a pair of orcs. Dressed in dark leathers and sporting glinting daggers on their hips, the pair pulled back the black hoods of their cloaks. They glanced at one another and grinned before heading into the jungle right behind Izusa. They could still smell her perfume, some mixture of jasmine and kingsblood. It wouldn't be long before they found her and extracted their money from her purse and her flesh.

~Izusa Captured!~

"An' mah famileh wondahs why I left de jungahl. It bein' hot, humid and full o' bugs. Not ta mention..."

Whack! Izusa scowled at the poisonous snake that lay limp against a tree, a broken branch pinning its broken neck in place. "...Not ta mention the bloodeh wildlife." The shaman grunted as she flicked the snake and make-shift weapon away from her. Shoving her fuscia hair away from her neck, she continued to tramp through the undergrowth.

After a day in the jungle she'd let her guard down a bit in order to travel the paths that were deeper in the jungle. At one point during the night she'd heard drums, which meant some of her people were likely near by. Not wanting to run into trolls anymore than the pissed off patron she was running from, Izusa veered away from the sound.

By morning she'd traveled several miles and was nearing the main road. Pausing a few yards from the cleared path, Izusa hunkered down to wait and watch. She tried thinking back as to who she'd swindled so badly they were out for blood--there were so many after all.

Plucking a leaf from a brilliant red plant, Izusa thoughtfully stuffed it into her mouth and began chewing. There had been one customer, who turned out to be two--a set of orc twins. A frown wrinkled the witch doctor's forehead as she thought back. The pair had come to her separately and then together. They wanted two different things and it wasn't until they came together for a third thing, that Izusa had started to put together what they were really after.

#  
"Ya two know whatcha be askin' me, ya? Makin' medicines an' charms an' all dat be one thing, but dis..." She trailed off, eyeing the twin orcs warily. They dressed differently, but they still both wore dark clothing that did nothing to conceal their muscled frames nor their glinting daggers. Izusa may be a swindler and a sham, but she wasn't stupid.

"We aren't asking you to perform the ceremony. We simply ask that you provide us with the necessary tools to do so ourselves," said one of the twins. He had a darker voice and tended to speak the most.

"Ya askin' me tah help ya defy Samedi and dat's jest bad voodoo, mon!" She wasn't sure she could convince them that it wasn't just superstition that drove her to resist. They'd obviously never tangled with the troll Loas before.

"Just give us the final item and we'll be on our way. You're being paid a great deal of money for such a simple thing. We all know you won't be getting a better offer any time soon," said the other twin. His voice was light, almost melodic and it made Izusa's skin crawl with disgust. Idly she wondered if he preferred males over females. He seemed the more effeminate of the two as well.

Swallowing hard, Izusa sighed, then nodded, "Ya, ya, all right den. I be given' yas what ya want, but I gotta make peace wit' Samedi befoah I hand it ovah."

A glance was exchanged between the twins then they nodded. Beating a hasty retreat back into her hut, Izusa headed to a cupboard in the far corner. Pushing aside the remaining piece of wood that served for a door to the cupboard, the shaman searched the few rickety shelves within until she found what she was looking for. In the back, behind a jar of pickled chicken feet, lay a dusty piece of stone. It was in the shape of a disk about four inches in diameter and a quarter inch thick. Across the surface were carved runes of power. Izusa grabbed the disk, stuffed it into her bodice and then pulled out another stone, smaller, smoother and made of polished agate. After a moment, during which she prayed for protection from not only death, but torture and painful dismemberment and, more importantly, the loss of her wealth, Izusa left the safety of her hut again.

Offering the twins the smooth medallion, she said, "Okeh den. Ya owe me three hundred gold, mon."

They exchanged the medallion for a heavy pouch of gold. Izusa didn't dare make them wait while she counted it. She wouldn't complain if they stiffed her a gold or ten--which was a first for her.

The rough medallion she'd passed on giving to the twins felt like dead weight inside her bodice. The transaction had been a week ago and she'd almost forgotten all about it. Almost.

"I shoulda left when I had da chance," groused Izusa as she continued to watch the road, looking for signs of life or pursuit.

"You're right," said a voice near her ear, "You should have." Darkness enveloped her eyes, causing her to cry out in alarm. Rough hands grabbed her arms and then her legs, pinned her down as rawhide was wrapped around her ankles and wrists. A foul tasting rag was shoved into her mouth.

"And now to extract what you owe us," hissed a voice. The darkness over her eyes became flashing lights as she was struck into unconsciousness.

~Izusa Escapes!~

#  
Izusa stared at the holes that had been torn in her clothing as it hung on a small vine strung between two trees near her tiny hut. Bitter disappointment and impotent rage twisted her insides. She clenched her fists, then took a deep breath and stepped forward to take the clothing down.

"They struck again, hmm?" The voice belonged to the elder troll who lived in the only other isolated hut on the outskirts of the ruins. She was shunned because her womb was barren and she had no skills that she'd bothered to hone except one and the stink of her tanning and leather working had forced her to the outer edge as a result.

Izsua shrugged, not bothering to turn. The old crone had already told her she didn't need to pay respects, that they were equals. The young troll knew it wasn't true, no matter how much she wanted it to be. "I can sew them, I have enough thread."

There was a pause during which Izusa thought the crone had moved on. But when she turned, there stood the elder troll woman, holding up the basket that was used for laundry. Izsua smiled and nodded, "Thank you."

As she reached to put the torn shirt she held into the basket, the crone slapped her hand away. Shocked, she pulled her hand back and rubbed at the stinging mark on the back of her hand. "What was that for?"

"This isn't a basket for laundry anymore. It's a basket for herbs. Now you go get me all the plants you can find in two hours and bring them to my hut after dark," said the crone, her opaque eyes glared straight into Izusa's.

"But... Why?" She couldn't fathom the reason for such a strange request.

"I'm going to teach you, young Izusa," hissed the crone, "And once the instruction is over, you'll leave this place and make your own way." The crone grinned. "And maybe your own wealth too." The grin disappeared. "Now go"

Slowly opening her eyes, Izusa found she could see, but barely. It was night time. The blindfold the orcs had used on her was gone. There was a fire nearby, she could smell the smoke, but all she could detect were embers. After a few moments she could make out two lumps nearby that could only be her captors.

The lump in her bodice was gone, so they'd taken the stone. A cold knot of dread worked its way through her belly at the thought of what the twin orcs could do with that stone. They didn't just want to raise someone from the dead, they wanted to raise Atalai Priests from the dead. The very thought of those Hakkari priests running around again made Izusa break out in a cold sweat. Those priests didn't just sacrifice you to the Blood God. Oh no, they tortured you first.

Not wanting to be around when the orcs woke up to start extracting their revenge from her hide, Izusa tested her bindings. Tied in a sitting position with her wrists bound behind her and around a medium sized tree, it was unlikly she'd break the bindings. Especially with her arms and fingers numb from lack of blood flow.

Taking a deep breath, Izusa closed her eyes and concentrated on her bonds. Straining to move her palms down so that they could be near the rawhide straps, she began chanting softly. Blue electricity crackled along her fingertips, jumping from tip to tip and flowing along her palms like water. In her palms the lightening pooled until there were two glowing balls. With a light flick of her wrists, Izusa willed them to hit her bonds.

ZAP! BAM!

Gasping in pain, Izusa jerked her hands up to her face. They were whole, but her wrists and forearms were covered in blisters and deep burns. Pushing aside the pain, she stumbled to her feet. The two orcs were already on their feet. Raising her palms again, Izusa fired twin bolts of lighting at their heads. They ducked, but the bright light blinded them for a moment.

Snatching her chance, Izusa bolted into the forest. They'd tracked her once, so they could do it again. But they wouldn't dare set foot in Skullsplitter ruins without back up. Choosing the lesser of the two evils, Izusa made a bee line in the direction she thought the ruins might be.

She hadn't exactly been thrown out, but her people had made it rather clear that if she showed her face among them again she'd regret it. Knowing her people, they'd turn her into a brood mare, forcing her to bear children and likely giving her the most demeaning tasks they could think of. Even that prospect seemed like heaven compared to what most likely awaited her with the orc twins.

There was no yelling this time--the orcs were out for blood. She could feel the tension in the jungle, sense the anger and bloodlust the orcs were feeling. If she stumbled, if she faltered, she was as good as dead. No need to be kept as a sacrifice for the Blood God, they'd kill her early and with relish.

Even as she ran for her life she cursed her bad luck. Muttering under her breath, she said, "You just had to take my gold too, didn't you, you bastards."


	2. Chapter 2

((Author's Note: This story was inspired by World of Warcraft. Izusa is my character from the Thorium Brotherhood server. This story, although using characters I've created personalities for, is copyright Blizzard Entertainment 2005, please don't sue, etc.

This story is rated M for some language, some adult themes and violence.))

Izusa Witch Doctor Extraordinaire

A World of Warcraft fanfic

By Heidi Cautrell

~Izusa's Homecoming.~

Ana'thek the Cruel was aptly named, Izusa decided as she stood before the towering Skullsplitter leader. He sneered down at her, his eyes full of contempt. Casually shifting his armor with a lazy roll of his shoulder, Ana'thek settled onto his haunches. Only once before had Izusa met the leader of her tribe and that was the day she'd been cast out.

"Half-breed, you are no longer welcome. Too long have you conspired with the crone, Isme. And now that she is dead, you have no one to speak for you. Your sire has cast you out and now so does the tribe," Ana'thek had said. A moment later a spear grazed Izusa's ear. Eyes wide with fear, she turned and ran.

They chased her for almost a week before finally letting her go. She sustained a few wounds during those seven fear filled days and nights, but nothing that wouldn't heal completely. She realized in that moment that being a troll was a curse and a blessing. If she hadn't been a troll, she likely wouldn't have survived the chase nor the spears and arrows and even the poison darts they threw. Then again, if she hadn't been a troll, they wouldn't have tried to drive her off nor hunt her like an animal.

Now she stood before her people's leader once again and she wondered if it wouldn't have been better to help the orcs raise the dead. Considering her past with her people and Ana'thek's reputation for torturing and eating his victims, the shaman was thinking that perhaps being damned by Samedi might almost be better. Almost.

"So you've come back, half-breed. Eager to die are we?" The sneer on his face was so fierce it looked painful.

Swallowing the bile in the back of her throat, Izusa croaked, "I am not here to die, great one. I'm here to warn our people."

The sneer, slowly faded into a frown. His burning eyes roved her face and then her body, which had been stripped bare. Fidgeting under his stare, Izusa hoped that rape wasn't also on the agenda. Not that it would matter in the end if she were dead.

"Warn us of what?" said Ana'thek, finally. He gestured to one of his concubines, who scurried forward with a bowl filled with red liquid. Izusa didn't have to be a troll, a healer or anything else to know that the contents were blood. The smell hit her nostrils, causing her gorge to rise. Swallowing it back, the shaman cleared her throat again.

"Two orcs stole an artifact from me. They wish to rais Atalai priests from the dead."

The leader stared at her as he drank. Wiping the excess blood away with the back of his hand, he barked out a laugh. "And? What of it, half-breed? You want your trinket back, is that it? Isme instilled the love of gold in you too deeply, I think," said Ana'thek, his sneer returned full force.

"No!" Izusa shook her head wildly, beads and feathers flying from her bedraggled hair. "No, I don't care for the stone, but I care that they will anger Samedi and Lukou! I care that they will destroy us all if they let the priests invoke Hakkar!"

The crowd around them gasped and made warding signs, spitting and even prostrating themselves at her mention of the Blood God. One did not say his name lightly.

Snarling, Ana'thek jerked to his feet. One moment he was standing in front of her, the next he was standing over her and blood filled Izusa's mouth. She couldn't feel anything yet, but she knew he'd backhanded her. Why couldn't she see out of her right eye? She tried to swallow, tried to breathe, instead she choked on her own blood.

Her last coherent thought was that she would have been better off with the orcs, at least she would have had a chance to steal her gold back if she'd helped them.

~Izusa Is Redeemed. Sort of.~

Izusa's eyes fluttered open. Light filtered between the leaves high above her head. Unable to make out more than a few distinct shapes, she closed her eyes. Turning her head to the right, she groaned as her swollen cheek touched something solid. The solid object was cool, however, so she kept her head to the side.

"You were stupid to come back, you know." The voice was female and one she recognized, though it had roughened as the years had moved on.

"I know, Mama," she said softly.

A swift kick to her ribs, had her curling into her right side, a soft moan the only sound she could manage.

"I was never your Mama. You were a curse from day one and I'll never claim you, half-breed," the voice hissed. Another kick caught Izusa in the middle of the back. Izusa could only groan.

"You never were a good mother anyway,Izma" said Izusa, her voice barely a whisper. She opened her eyes finally to stare up at the woman who had give her half of her fuschia hair color. She was older now, wrinkles forming around her eyes, yet she still looked in her prime despite the fact that she was likely in her fifties. It helped she was one of the top females in the camp, having born all males except for Izusa--whom she would not claim.

The elder woman snarled at her offspring's comment. Pulling back a fist, she was caught off balance by a hand around her wrist. Gasping in surprised, Izma whirled toward her captor. Ana'thek snarled at her, then flung her to the side by her wrist as if she were a rag doll. Izma lay where he tossed her.

"What are you doing? She's a wretch, a bastard, a slut! Don't touch her!" Izma said wildly, fearing that Ana'thek would attempt to bed Izusa.

Throwing back his head, the leader laughed, then took one lunging step and backhanded Izma, throwing her into a nearby wall of ancient stone. "Shut your mouth, wench. No one, let alone a female," he said the word with contempt, "tells Ana'thek the Cruel what to do."

The statement was a dismissal like Izusa had never heard. He turned toward Izusa as she tried to rise to her knees. She would not face him without a fight. He crouched before her, grasping her neck with one wide hand. Her breath hitched, but he didn't squeeze, he merely held her.

"My scouts have confirmed the truth of your words, half-breed," he said. His gaze roamed over her face as if he were searching for an answer to a puzzle.

"And the artifact?" said Izusa, not daring to ask after her gold. Not yet anyway.

With his free hand, the leader of the Skullsplitters pulled out the rough stone disk Izusa had lost, holding it up so that the runes on the front showed clearly in the afternoon light. He regarded her once again. "This was given to you by Isme?" Izusa nodded. "It is used in a ritual of the dead?" She nodded again.

Spinning the stone between his fingers, Ana'thek let it fall into his palm. He squeezed. A popping sound followed by the trail of dust had Izusa's eyes widening. He'd broken a piece of stone with one bare hand. She swallowed against his grip on her throat.

"The orcs are no longer a problem. And now, neither is this. You show your face to our people again, and I will kill you where you stand. Understood?" Ana'thek put his nose an inch from Izusa's. She nodded jerkily as she whispered, "Yes!"

Tossing her away, he rose, shot a contemptuous glance at Izma, then strode away, his footsteps coming close to shaking the ground. The broken stone was still gripped in his hand as he left.

Izusa climbed to her feet. She was still naked and it finally occurred to her it would be a bad idea to be in a state of complete undress when she returned to the jungle. Spying a robe laying nearby, Izusa snatched it up. With one last glance at her mother, who snarled at her from where she lay slumped and bleeding, Izusa pulled on the robe and headed out of the ruins. She paused near the entry way and looked back.

"No wonder my Bloodscalp father sent you away. You probably made a lousy slave," said Izusa, but there was no anger in her voice, but there was no pity either.

She turned away then and left for good. On the way out, she stopped to ask the whereabouts of the two orcs. After several discussions, she found they'd been left for carrion near Zul'Gurub. Izusa grinned widely as she hurried off. Maybe, just maybe, no one had picked them over and she could get her gold back.

~Izusa's Revenge.~

A solid kick to the orc's thick, green head told Izusa he was dead. Of course the seven spears and many more arrows might have done that as well, but she wasn't about to take any chances. Her sienna gaze shifted to the twin of the first orc. They looked very much alike, but Izusa guess they were merely brothers and not twins. When she leaned closer she saw that their skin coloring was off slightly and their tusks had different slants to them.

"Not dat it be makin' a difference now, ya mon? Ya both be deadah den Samedi's peckah," cackle Izusa. Launching herself to the right of the bodies she began dancing around them in circle. Her whole body moved, belly undulating, feet shuffling, hips swaying, arms swirling, hair flying--the shaman flung herself into her dance.

Her foot hit something solid, throwing her off balance and drawing her attention to the orc's belongings. They'd been left where they'd been dropped. The tribe hadn't bothered with their things. It made sense, if they hadn't even bothered to make a meal of the orcs, they weren't about to take anything from them either.

Dropping to her knees, the sounds of the jungle muted behind the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears, Izua dug into the worn leather pack, tearing off buckles and even biting through a cord. Inside the sack were rations. She tossed them aside, they were rotted. Next she came across a small leather pouch with several slots inside that held half empty vials of varying liquids. She took a sniff. "Poison," grunted the troll woman. She set them off to the side. She dug into the pack again and again, discarding or setting aside as she determined what she could keep or sell and what was worthless. Next to the poisons she'd added several knives, throwing weapons and a short sword and a ragged velvet pouch full of gems. Pawing around one last time, Izusa was about to put her loot back into the bag when she came across a scrap of crumpled paper shoved into the corner of the bag.

Pulling the paper into the light, Izusa read:

#  
WANTED: Dead or Alive

Gren & Sol of the Shatteredhand

Bounty: 1,000 gold a piece

Bring them or their heads to The Salty Sailor Tavern.

Signed Baron Revilgaz #

A loud burst of laughter scattered the near by birds and scavengers that had gathered because of the carrion smell. Once Izusa had taken her fill of loot, the bodies were theirs for the taking. Every thing from the pile Izusa had made was unceremoniously shoved into the leather bag. With another cackle, the shaman leaped nimbly to her feet and took off into the jungle.

"Dis bein' bettah den mah gold, cause it bein somebodeh elses! Samedi, ya dead bastahd, I owes ya one!" Her shout echoed through the trees. A chilly wind swirled around her, sending goose bumps racing along her lithe body. Only a pause in stride indicated Izusa's acknowledgment of the warning. Samedi heard her and would keep her to her promise. It was a bad omen or perhaps a good one, but at that moment, the swilding witch doctor didn't care.

"Watch out Booty Bay, de Witch Doctah is back!"


	3. Chapter 3

((Author's Note: This story was inspired by World of Warcraft. Izusa is my character from the Thorium Brotherhood server. This story, although using characters I've created personalities for, is copyright Blizzard Entertainment 2005, please don't sue, etc.

This story is rated M for some language, some adult themes and violence.))

Izusa Witch Doctor Extraordinaire

A World of Warcraft fanfic

By Heidi Cautrell

~Izusa's Up To Her Old Tricks Again~

A shadow slid over Izusa. She was sitting at a table in the Salty Sailor, minding her own business, for the most part, and enjoying an ale. A quick glance upward told her the owner of the shadow was a rather disgruntled looking sin'dorei man who just happened to have a rash on his face the color of a ripe pumpkin.

"You told me," said the elven man, his teeth gritted from either the rash or anger, "that your salve would cure that blemish. It not only didn't cure it, but it made me into a Hallow's Eve freak!"

A surprise gasp was Izusa's response, followed by a wide smile. "Well 'ello dere Mistah! I didn't recognize ya! Now what ya be sayin' mon, dat Izusa's salve doan werk? Well den, we jest get you a bettah one den-"

Cut off, Izusa blinked down at the gun the sin'dorei had pulled out and pressed to her collar bone. She glanced up at him, her brown eyes narrowing. "No need foah de gun, mon. Dis is jest business. Izusa fix ya up and foah free. How good bein' dat, eh mon?"

The elven man held out his hand, "Just give me the five gold you swindled out of me and I'll be on my way."

Hesitation on her part, had the man with the gun pushing it against her chest. Not wanting to have to regrow part of her shoulder or spine, Izusa finally relented. From a pouch on her waist she pulled out five gold coins. The coins were placed slowly, carefully on the table. Her dissatisfied customer, snatched up his coins, put up his gun and whirled away in a cloud of hair.

A sour look at his back was all Izusa spared before going back to her ale. The goblin across from her, who was the biggest goblin she'd seen to date, grinned at her, teeth glinting in the dim tavern light. "You'll never learn, will you, Izusa."

Hands folded primly before her, Izusa said, "Why Baron, I'm sure I don't know what ya mean."

A soft laugh was the goblin's answer before he tossed a bag of gold in front of her. "For the Shatteredhand orc brothers." Another, smaller pouch came next. Jez'rah blinked at it, then shifted her gaze up to the Baron. "What's that for, eh mon?"

"That, my dear, is for you to get out of my city. I have followed your exploits with some amusement and I would hate to see such an ambitious troll woman like yourself, get killed over something minor. Take that gold, do some work for me in Outland and then return when rumors of you have died down," said Baron Revilgaz.

"Outland, ya say..." said Izusa thoughtfully. She glanced out the door of the Salty Sailor and wondered just how different Outland would be. A glance back at the Baron then told her a change of scenery would be in her best interest, especially if she wanted to continue to live.

"All right den, Baron. Ya be havin' Izusa's eyes and ears and spells out dere in Outland." The charlatan witch doctor grinned, playing it off as if it really were her decision.

"Excellent! There's a settlement of orcs in a place called Garadar. They're brown skinned, untainted by demon blood and may be willing to buy a few things if you go to trade with them..." The Baron continued on his his plans. They were rather mundane for the most part, but some of them piqued Izusa's interest enough that she didn't balk at being forced to do his dirty work.

After a few hours, Izusa found herself on a Wyvern to Stonard in the Swamp of Sorrows. She stared down at the muddy waters, wondering just what the hell she'd gotten herself into this time.

"At least de pay is bettah," chuckled the Shaman to herself.

~Izusa Versus Griftah~

The Lower City of Shattrath reminded Izusa of Booty Bay and, as such, she felt right at home. She had to put her eyes back in her sockets a few times over various sights including alliance and horde members mingling and the sight of the consortium energy beings. They looked like glowing mummies to the shaman, though she soon found out they certainly weren't brainless.

On her third day in the Lower City, Izusa came across someone who was possibly better at swindling and cajoling than she was. His name was Griftah and he was a troll of indeterminate tribe. He could have been anything, his coloring was just that kind of mish-mash that would allow for it.

When she first stumbled across him, Griftah was selling a piece of soap stuck to a string to some witless human. Crossing her arms as she watched, Izusa did her best to hide her contempt. She wanted to observe him before she moved in for the kill. There were few who could out swindle Izusa, but she knew competition when she saw it. It would almost be rude if she didn't at least try to oust him.

Once the human wandered away with his soap dangling from one hand and a bemused expression on his face, Izusa sauntered by.

"Ya look lovesick. Special Someone be gettin' ya down, eh? No worries, no worries. Ya get this medallion from me, ya wear it when ya see 'em, and they be all over ya, sweetheart!" Griftah grinned at her, beckoning her over with one hand as he held up the medallion in question. One glance at the thing told Izusa it was just a piece of junk. In fact, after taking a second look, Izusa realized that the writing was in Zandalari and the words were gibberish.

A sweet smile touched Izusa's blue lips. "Ya be so kind to be worried over complete strangers. What makes ya think I be love sick, eh mon?"

Grin still in place, Griftah said, "Not love sick? Maybe it's fear then? Fear of the tingbaling! Fearsome creatures they are." He shoved the first medallion out of sight and pulled out a leather cord with a chunk of polished stone attached. "This amulet will protect ya, guaranteed!"

She blinked at the stone and then at the troll man holding it. Was he for real? She narrowed his eyes. There was something off about him. He wasn't trying hard enough. Or maybe that was his game. Izusa wasn't sure if she was giving him too much credit or not enough. Chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully, she regarded Griftah. He wore nice clothing, though it was hardly finery to rival the blood elves. He was neither old nor young that she could tell, so he was likely around her age of thirty.

Grunting softly, Izusa said, "Dunno what a tingbaling is, but I be thinkin' my lightning will be more affective than a rock." A sour note had entered her voice. She didn't like people she couldn't read and this Griftah was one of the few she'd encountered that confused her.

At that moment a beautiful blood elf woman sauntered by. Griftah's eyes lit up and he shouted after her, "Hey blood elf! Ya look lovesick. Special-"

"Drop dead," said the elven woman over shoulder, then sauntered off, flipping her blond hair as she went.

Griftah cackled wildly. Izusa blinked, then let a slow grin touch her lips. "I see ya have admirers around here."

A gallic shrug was Griftah's response. He put away the amulet, then pulled out the same item he'd sold to the human earlier. He offered the soap to Izusa, "Soap on a rope? Washes away all ya troubles." He grinned at her.

Snorting, Izusa said, "Ya need that more than me, mon." Turning with a swing of her shapely hips, Izusa sauntered off.

Calling after her, Griftah said, "Half price just for ya, sweetheart" Izusa rolled her eyes, trying to keep the grin off her lips.

Izusa hadn't gotten what she wanted from the encounter. But neither had Griftah. So, it was a draw--for now.


	4. Chapter 4

((Author's Note: This story was inspired by World of Warcraft. Izusa is my character from the Thorium Brotherhood server. This story, although using characters I've created personalities for, is copyright Blizzard Entertainment 2005, please don't sue, etc.

This story is rated M for some language, some adult themes and violence.))

Izusa Witch Doctor Extraordinaire

A World of Warcraft fanfic

By Heidi Cautrell

~Izusa Isn't All Bad~

"I'm in need of a cure for these warts on my hands. They make it almost impossible to work my trade as quick as I'd like," said a middle aged orc. He was tall and powerfully built, his dark brown skin marking him a Mag'har orc. His leather work clothes with burns and black smudges marked him a metal worker of some kind.

"Well den, Mistah, ya come to de right Witch Doctah. Izusa be knowin a special potion dat be fixin' ya right up and it onleh be costin' ya five gold!"

Izusa, Witch Doctor Extraordinaire, grinned widely. Small tusks poked from the corner of her mouth. Her smooth blue skin and sparkling sienna eyes gave her a youthful appearance that belied her real age of thirty. Her long fuschia braids tumbled to the middle of her shoulder blades and were littered with bones, beads, gems and feathers, though they were all clean and smelled of kingsblood.

The orc eyed her over carefully, taking in all the details of this strange female shaman. He'd been seeing an ever steady stream of travelers to his village and while he didn't like the reason they'd come, for the most part they seemed to be helping more than hindering what was left of their world which was now called Outland. This one in particular had shown up in his village just the day before and already she seemed to be showing her willingness to help a people that weren't her own.

"Five gold you say..." He eyed her thoughtfully, "You wouldn't be willing to take payment in the form of armor, would you?"

Quirking a dark blue eyebrow, Izusa said, "I bein' shoah dat your work be top notch dere, Mistah, but I don't be needin' no plate armor."

Rubbing his chin as he eyed her tall frame, he said, "I could make you a pair of chain mail boots."

Wild laughter burst from Izusa's lips. Picking up one foot, she stuck it almost in the orc's face. "Ya see dem feet?" The large bluish-purple toes, all two of them, wiggled. "Dere ain't nothin' dat can be made ta fit dem, nah."

Taking a step back, the orc nodded, "I see. Very well, then. I'll have the gold for you tomorrow."

Beaming brightly, Izusa nodded. "Dat sounds great, Mistah!"

The next day Izusa returned to the blacksmith's hut. Before she announced herself, she pulled an empty vial from the pouch on her hip. Slipping up next to rain barrel that was bursting from the previous night's rain, she submerged the vial, filling it to the brim.

From the same pouch on her hip, she pulled a pinch of dried up kingsblood from a small pieced of folded wax paper. Dropping the herb into the vial, she put a stopper in it, shook it vigorously, then held it up to the light. The water inside the glass container was now a pale lavender. Nodding in satisfaction, Izusa, knocked on the hut's door. "It's Izusa, de Witch Doctah, Mistah!"

"Come on round back," called a voice. Following the sound of a hammer she hadn't noticed earlier, Izusa walked to the back of the hut. There at a forge stood the large, brown orc, half dressed and pounding away at a piece of glowing red metal. Impressed with the way he looked wielding a hammer, Izusa hesitated a moment.

Pausing in his work, the orc looked up with a smile, "There you are. I'm glad you came back. I need to finish this work or I won't be able to feed my wife and children." Pulling a small pouch from his belt, he tossed it in Izusa's direction. Once caught, Izusa counted out five gold in silver and coppers.

A knot formed in her stomach. Glancing up, she said, "Ya had ta scrape dis togetha, ya?"

Grunting, the orc nodded, "It's all there though, every copper. And as long as this cure of yours works, it'll be worth using our savings to get it."

Emotions flickered across the shaman's face, including guilt, doubt and compassion. Sighing heavily, she took the vial she'd been clutching and shoved it into her pouch. From the coin pouch she extracted a gold's worth, mostly in silver. She tossed the pouch back to a very surprised orc.

"Lemme see dem hands, mon. Dis potion might not be strong enough if dey real bad," said Izusa, trying not to look the Orc in the eye.

Tucking the remaining currency into his pouch, the orc ambled over, pulling off his gloves as he went. He stopped a few fee from her, his brown gaze thoughtful. After a moment he stepped closer and held up his hands. They were large, work roughened and had the worse burn scars Izusa had ever seen on them. Along with the scars were dozens of warts, some even bleeding from the rough treatment required to used them while working metal.

Grunting softly, Izusa pressed her hands over his and began chanting softly in Zandali. Warm green light enveloped both their hands. The orc's eyes widened in surprise. After a few moments, Izusa ended her chant. The light faded as she did. She nodded at the orc, then turned and purposefully walked away.

The orc flexed his hands, then gingerly ran his fingers over his palms and the backs of his hands. Not only had she cured the warts, but she'd healedd the arthritis that had been starting to bother his joints and some of the worst scars, the ones that made his fingers stiff, they'd faded almost completely.

A warm smile touched the orc's face. Nodding slowly, he turned back to his forge. Soon the blacksmith found he could not only complete the one major order early, but was able to start on a back log of other orders.

~Izusa Is Really a Marshmallow~

"One, two, t'ree, foah, five, six, seveneightnineten! Readeh oah not, here I be comin'!"

Izusa jumped up, braids and trinkets flying every where as she spun on her heel. She hurried from her position near the hospice turned inn in Garadar. Her challenge belted from her in a fierce yell. Her brilliant sienna eyes flashed in the afternoon sun as she took off after the young orcs that scattered in her wake, squealing their mock terror.

"I be comin' ta get ya!" She chortled as she loped down the pathways that twisted through the village. She growled and snarled as she hunted down each of the squirming little ones.

"Ya can't hide from me, ya tasty likkle orcses!" Izusa crowed as she plucked two from the top of a canopy. The height might have been too tall for the orc adults, but Izusa towered at least a foot above most. Tucking one child under each arm, she grinned down at them. "Time ta find da fiah an' da cookin' pot!"

The pair squealed and squirmed and laughed, protesting their fate as Izusa's dinner. "No, no! Not the cook pot! We don't wannat be stew!" they wailed even as they giggled. As the trio trundled past, orc adults, parents and elders looked on in amusement before shaking their heads and going back to the chores that were interrupted by the gleeful screams of excited children. Setting the squirming pair down near the main fire in Garadar, Izusa winked at them, gave them each a piece of chocolate from a pouch on her waist, and then loped off to find more hiding orc children. The pair happily sat, stuffing their faces with the sweet confection they'd been rewarded with.

"I still bein' hungreh! Who's gonna feed me now!?" Izusa called across the village as she stomped around a hut.

She halted as she came around to the back side of the round hut she'd chosen to search. Nearby were four of the orc children she'd been chasing. They were all crouched down in a rough circle, solmenly staring down at something on the ground in between their dirty feet. Quietly edging closer, her bare feet making no sound on the rocks, Izusa peered over the children's heads. In the center lay a small bunny, hardly bigger than Izusa's wide palm. It lay on its side, panting shallowly, eyes rolled into the back of its head.

One of the children looked up then. A girl child with tiny pigtails, wide black eyes, and a pouty lower lip that just showed the start of tusks, pleaded, "Can ya fix it, Witch Lady?"

The other children glanced up, almost startled at her presence, their hearts in their eyes, begging her to do something. Blinking slowly, Izusa nodded slowly. "Okeh den. Let me have some room, I be seein' what I kin be doin', ya."

Shuffled to the side, the children sat or crouched in a half circle, watching Izusa gently pick up the bunny with her large hand. Izusa put her other wide hand gently over the bunny. Eyes closed, the self-proclaimed witchdoctor began chanting, her voice hypnotic with its sweet, alto sound. The harshly spoken words were softened by her voice. Warm, green light spilled from between her fingertips as she spoke.

The end of the chant was punctuated by a flash of yellow light. The bunny then began to struggle frantically. It finally squirmed its way from between Izusa's fingers and dashed to hide behind a nearby sack of grain. Izusa flashed a grin displaying the small tusks at the corner of her mouth, "Dere yas go. Dat likkle rabbit be jest fine."

Awe on their faces, the children lunged toward Izusa, knocking her off her feet. They hugged her and praised her. "That was great, Lady Witch!" crowed one. "I wanna be a shaman when I grow up too!" cried another. And then they began to argue, "I bet I'll be a better shaman than you." "Nuh-uh!" "Yeah huh!"

A shrill whistle halted the arguments and brought attention to Izusa. She grinned at them as she picked herself up and dusted off her robes. "Ai'right, chillins, dat be enough arguin', ya. Know what time it is now?"

Eyes wide, they slowly shook their heads in unison.

"Lunch time!" exclaimed Izusa, then lunged at the young orcs. Squeals went up and the children sped off in search of hiding spots. Cackling wildly, Izusa took off in pursuit. "De Witch Lady be hungreh! Come feed me, likkle orcses!"


End file.
